Well, for what it's worth, the close-up of a hand pushing a button on a remote control is the most action we've seen in a Mallard Fillmore strip in, well, ever. Too bad it serves no discernible purpose.
What? No, seriously, what the hell is he even saying here? Is he complaining about the mall Santas having beards? Is he complaining that someone asked him who a razor was for that he bought?
Tinsley takes a break from his oh-so-important mission (speaking truth to power, of course, and letting everyone know that liberals are big stinky poopyheads who are simultaneously all-powerful and too stupid to live) to grouse about common Christmas gifts.
Or TV commercials. I don't know. Tinsley's become so completely incoherent, our pet troll doesn't seem to want to crawl out from under his rock to defend the guy lately.
(Don't worry, troll--there's a rash of trashy negative news stories about some uppity black athlete! Tinsley can't resist those. You two will be back on common ground in a little over a week, burnin' crosses and swearing you aren't bigots.)
We've all seen the mug shot, Bruce. You should be happy to get a shaver for Christmas, and thankful that someone still cares enough about you, in spite of yourself, to give you one.
To those confused about the point Tinsley's making: he is pointing out that around Christmas there are many adverts for razors, all of which frame it as a gift because it's Christmas yeah?
Having solved all of lifes other ills (two wars, unemployment, poverty, racism, etc.) Tinsley has now moved on to razor commercials. Can we get a new choice for how we feel about the specified "comic"? I want to request "facepalm".
You guys don't understand how research works. He fortified himself repeatedly before strapping himself into the Chair of Learning. He then used the only tool he's ever really mastered to turn on the Magic Box. Then, what with one thing and (burp) another, the only memories he has of the evening are two shaver commercials.
That was the research phase. Next he applied his fine mind to extrapolating from a tiny sample. He saw two ads, which means there must be dozens, nay, millions of them on TV. They taxed his attention span to the utmost, so everybody else must hate them as much as he does!
Hooray! The strip practically drew itself after that. At least, it seemed to, thanks to the wonders of "Black-out Vision".
Wow. The free market and television sure tick Mallard off.
It's got to be a fetish. Since avoiding either is easy.
Maybe if certain guys weren't so grumpy and closed-mouthed as they sulk pot-bellied in front of the television all day with stubble growing, people wouldn't think that a razor would be a good Christmas present for them.
Only Tinny would think that intelligent alien life would travel trillions of miles in a decades-long voyage to finally reach Earth and then watch television.
For a guy who hates TV so much, he sure seems to be obsessed with it. I think we see what his "research" really is: 80 to 90 hours a week of watching the tube. He scribbles his strip in that brief morning period between "I think the hangover's almost gone" and "Comic's done! Time to grab a 12 pack and a pint of vodka and flop into my beanbag and watch my soaps!"
17 comments:
Well, for what it's worth, the close-up of a hand pushing a button on a remote control is the most action we've seen in a Mallard Fillmore strip in, well, ever. Too bad it serves no discernible purpose.
Uh oh! Mallard passed out on the floor again!
What? No, seriously, what the hell is he even saying here? Is he complaining about the mall Santas having beards? Is he complaining that someone asked him who a razor was for that he bought?
Tinsley takes a break from his oh-so-important mission (speaking truth to power, of course, and letting everyone know that liberals are big stinky poopyheads who are simultaneously all-powerful and too stupid to live) to grouse about common Christmas gifts.
Or TV commercials. I don't know. Tinsley's become so completely incoherent, our pet troll doesn't seem to want to crawl out from under his rock to defend the guy lately.
(Don't worry, troll--there's a rash of trashy negative news stories about some uppity black athlete! Tinsley can't resist those. You two will be back on common ground in a little over a week, burnin' crosses and swearing you aren't bigots.)
We've all seen the mug shot, Bruce. You should be happy to get a shaver for Christmas, and thankful that someone still cares enough about you, in spite of yourself, to give you one.
To those confused about the point Tinsley's making: he is pointing out that around Christmas there are many adverts for razors, all of which frame it as a gift because it's Christmas yeah?
That's the joke.
In closing, Bruce Tinsley go fuck yourself.
And so Tinsley's annual War on Christmas begins....
Having solved all of lifes other ills (two wars, unemployment, poverty, racism, etc.) Tinsley has now moved on to razor commercials. Can we get a new choice for how we feel about the specified "comic"? I want to request "facepalm".
You guys don't understand how research works. He fortified himself repeatedly before strapping himself into the Chair of Learning. He then used the only tool he's ever really mastered to turn on the Magic Box. Then, what with one thing and (burp) another, the only memories he has of the evening are two shaver commercials.
That was the research phase. Next he applied his fine mind to extrapolating from a tiny sample. He saw two ads, which means there must be dozens, nay, millions of them on TV. They taxed his attention span to the utmost, so everybody else must hate them as much as he does!
Hooray! The strip practically drew itself after that. At least, it seemed to, thanks to the wonders of "Black-out Vision".
At last, proof positive that Mallard has a remote and can use it.
NOW TURN THE FUCKING TV OFF AND GO DO SOMETHING USEFUL. Like, I dunno, climb in this pot and cook in your own fat.
"NOW TURN THE FUCKING TV OFF AND GO DO SOMETHING USEFUL. Like, I dunno, climb in this pot and cook in your own fat."
Wouldn't be a very fruitful thing to do.
His liver is ruined and the rest of him is unpalatably bitter.
Wow. The free market and television sure tick Mallard off.
It's got to be a fetish. Since avoiding either is easy.
Maybe if certain guys weren't so grumpy and closed-mouthed as they sulk pot-bellied in front of the television all day with stubble growing, people wouldn't think that a razor would be a good Christmas present for them.
"NOW TURN THE FUCKING TV OFF AND GO DO SOMETHING USEFUL. Like, I dunno, climb in this pot and cook in your own fat."
Wouldn't be a very fruitful thing to do.
His liver is ruined and the rest of him is unpalatably bitter.
I wasn't suggesting we eat him afterward. God knows where that duck's been. I was just saying he should be confited for entertainment purposes.
Only Tinny would think that intelligent alien life would travel trillions of miles in a decades-long voyage to finally reach Earth and then watch television.
For a guy who hates TV so much, he sure seems to be obsessed with it. I think we see what his "research" really is: 80 to 90 hours a week of watching the tube. He scribbles his strip in that brief morning period between "I think the hangover's almost gone" and "Comic's done! Time to grab a 12 pack and a pint of vodka and flop into my beanbag and watch my soaps!"
After drink number x, Blallard's head changes color.
Solve for X
Cheers!
Jzb
For a guy who hates TV so much, he sure seems to be obsessed with it.
Now now, Bill, he never said he hates watching TV, just made it clear that he hates TV. He loves hating TV.
WV: idlizes -- loves to hate.
You know, in the hands of a talented cartoonist, like maybe Bill Griffith, Dan Piraro or Gary Larson, today's joke could actually be pretty funny.
Notice that I said a TALENTED cartoonist.
The aliens already see our TV.
Post a Comment